The Duality of Seven
by Miki-hime
Summary: Seven Vignettes of Arthur and Guinevere. Seven Heavenly Virtues. Seven Deadly Sins. Centers around the colors red and purple. Based on a combination of two prompts from thefuturequeen's Gwen summer battle 2010.


The Duality of Seven

Vignette # 1

Vice: Envy , Virtue: Kindness

At long last, Lancelot du Lac had returned to Camelot.

The Great Dragon's attack had cost the city many lives: women, children, and _knights_ alike. Knights were needed now more than ever to protect the city at its most vulnerable. In a time of great strife, nobility was no longer a requirement. The age of the common man, they were calling it.

He strode in on horseback, eager and ready to once again prove himself to the one man he truly admired.

He was not welcomed with open arms. The young prince didn't even smile at him. There were no words of acknowledgement. No words at all. Instead, he was pointed to the back of the line of recruits, despite his early arrival.

"Lancelot's back."

There was a flicker of recognition in Gwen's eyes before she looked away, cheeks stained pink.

Arthur was leaning against her wall, watching her every move. He could feel himself getting angry at her, though he knew he shouldn't. He had no right. He hadn't been the first to notice her. She had fallen for him as an afterthought.

* * *

"Has he come to see you?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. He took this as a sign of her guilt instead of what it really was.

"The least you can do is tell me the truth," he snarled, causing her to flinch in response.

"I _am_ telling you the truth, Arthur."

She placed a hand on his shoulder blade and he recoiled from her touch. Her face crumbled and she grew silent.

"I know." He turned to face her. "I didn't mean to upset you, Guinevere. I just can't help the feeling…"

She looked at him, urging him to continue.

"Never mind," he mumbled, bowing his head. "Good night, Guinevere."

He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her warm skin. She stared at him, awed at the gesture and ashamed at what memories came to the forefront. She pulled her hand away.

She saw the hurt in his eyes for a brief moment before he straightened and left her house without another word.

It was the second time Arthur had seen her on the training grounds. The first had been nearly two years ago, back when he'd paid her no mind. She'd just been Morgana's loyal handmaiden, too plain and too soft-spoken to warrant his attention.

Even then, he'd been aware of her affections for his new knight.

It had been insignificant to him then, just a mere observation. Now it occupied every thought, every cell, every fiber of his being.

She was here again, adjusting his armor, her mouth wide in a toothy grin that up until now had been reserved for him alone. _And_ she was wearing the pink dress he'd given her.

Lancelot raised his arms as she pulled something red out of a cloth bag. She unfolded it and attached it to his chainmail before taking a few steps back. She made a circular motion with her fingers and he slowly turned around, grinning widely as he modeled for her.

She _hugged _him.

Arthur turned away.

* * *

Gwen opened the door wide and gestured for him to come in.

"You're a little early, Arthur," she said, smiling. "I didn't have much time to tidy up."

"I've come to say farewell."

He said it in such an abrupt manner that Gwen didn't know how to respond at first.

"I know you have," she said after a moment. "That's why I invited you here."

"No." he shook his head. "What I am trying to say is—"

She raised a hand to stop him.

"Just give me a moment, Arthur."

He complied, not knowing what else to do.

He watched as she knelt down, reaching for the cloth bag he'd seen a few weeks ago.

"You're going to Cenred's kingdom tomorrow," she said, pulling the red cloth out of the bag. "I thought I might give you something for good luck."

She handed the cape to him, holding her hands in front of her awkwardly.

He unfolded the garment gingerly, stealing glances at her every so often.

The cape was different than he remembered. When he'd seen it last, it was just a unremarkable plain red fabric. Now, an embroidered golden dragon breathing fire adorned the center.

He stared at it, taken aback by the irony of it all.

"You don't like it," she said, sounding dejected. "Lancelot suggested the dragon when I was fitting it. I thought it was a nice touch, but now—"

"Lancelot?"

"Yes." She smiled. "He thinks really highly of you, you know. He said I should make something worthy of your strength, if memory serves."

She said this all very quickly before looking up at him earnestly.

"It's…spectacular," he said, admiring her embroidery. "I've never seen anything like it."

"I'm glad."

She pulled the cape from his hand and placed it on the table, before taking his hands in hers.

"I love you, Arthur. More than anything. My whole world is you. If I've done anything to upset you—"

He pressed his lips to hers and her grip on his hands grew lax. She leaned into him as his arms pulled her into him, so close she could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"I've been a fool," he whispered into her lips. "I should have trusted you."

She pressed her ear to his chest and closed her eyes. Breathing in his every smell and feeling comforted in the familiar aroma.

"When he first came, I was afraid of what I might do, afraid my feelings would awaken again." She looked up, smiling. "But he's only made me realize how strong my affections for you have become."

He smoothed his hand over her hair and entangled his hand in her curls. His fingers wrapped around a worn piece of cloth. Curious, he slipped it from her hair, letting the curls fall freely down her back.

It was a worn, lavender piece of cloth.

"You can keep it," she said, folding his hands over the cloth. "Consider it another token from me."

He leaned forward and softly kissed her forehead to show his gratitude.

"I must go." He reached up and touched her face. "Father will be wondering where I've gone."

She nodded solemnly.

"I love you," he said.

He kissed her once more, a little longer this time, not wanting to leave her when she was making him feel like _this_.

He pulled away and said his farewells, leaving her in the lonely silence of her cramped home.

Gwen fell into a chair and held her face in her hands. He had believed her every word. He thought he was at fault for everything, that he had no right to be suspicious.

The truth was, the feeling was still there. It was faint, like the dying embers of a once burning hearth, but it was there, fighting to stay alive, threatening to overtake her.

She knew her love for Arthur would eventually douse the fire. She just needed time.

* * *

The knights had gathered. They were waiting in the square for Arthur to brief them on the mission.

The prince looked around, his face stern and commanding. No one could tell that, inside, he was brimming with happiness now that he was free of his worst fear.

"Du Lac," he called, looking Lancelot straight in the eye. "Come here. I need to speak to you before we move out."

Lancelot was there in a heartbeat.

"Yes, sire?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment, searching for the ugly feeling in his chest. He felt traces of it, but it was being replaced with another feeling.

Camaraderie.

"Guinevere wanted me to give this to you." He pulled out the lavender cloth and handed it to him. "She's sorry she couldn't be here to give it to you personally. She wishes you good luck and wants you to know her spirit will be with you."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows in surprise as he looked down at the cloth in his hands.

"She said all that, sire?"

"She did indeed." Arthur clapped him on the back. "Let's return safely for her sake."

Lancelot nodded, clenching the cloth tightly in his hands.

* * *

This is the first of seven chapters, each to feature a vice and virtue and each to feature the colors red and purple. It's a combination of two prompts from thefuturequeen's Gwen battle. I hope you liked it! I'm still trying to get all my prompts done!


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